


while collecting the stars, i connected the dots

by mjscorner



Series: soulmate series [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Tony Stark, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Damsel in Distress, Platonic Soulmates, Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, for the sake of irondad, i wont allow it any other way, im mean to the cinammon roll, tony stark lives obviously, whump leads to fluff as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24210043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjscorner/pseuds/mjscorner
Summary: Their hands touched without gloves or gauntlets or technology keeping them apart. Skin-on-skin contact, and Peter's entire life was suddenly flashing before Tony's eyes, and Tony's before Peter's.He choked on a gasp and squeezed his eyes shut as the memories began flooding all of his senses all at once, overwhelming every atom in his body with a warmth so intense he was melting. Every tear, every hug, every kiss planted to the kid's head, every anxious night spent worrying recklessly about the kid was coursing through his veins.Tony's eyes snapped open in a heartbeat as he stared down at Peter like he was the most precious miracle to ever walk the Earth, Peter mirroring his intensity."P-Peter?"ORyou see your soulmate in your dreams, both platonic and romantic, though you don't remember them in the morning. only physical touch can wake two soulmates when they are blind to each other in the real world.
Series: soulmate series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893016
Comments: 47
Kudos: 504
Collections: The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best MCU Fics





	while collecting the stars, i connected the dots

You meet your soulmate spiritually in your dreams, but when you meet your soulmate physically, their name carves itself on your wrist.

It's important to note that Tony Stark was not a religious man. He didn't meditate, he wasn't forced to go to a Sunday morning service as a kid, and he sure as hell didn't pray unless someone's life was on the line.

On the other hand, he didn't believe in aliens at first either: not until he got his ass handed to him by several thousands of them in 2012, though he didn't know about that part of his life yet.

He assumed that he simply didn't have one for the majority of his life; that was common, to not have a soulmate at all. Some people had two, some had none, so it went. Tony found that he didn't mind living with the knowledge that his soulmate had already passed him by. One less thing he had to worry about, for all he cared.

 _No need to be a pussy about_ _it_.

But one night, upon catching a few hours of blissful rest after slumping over his work table, he had a dream.

He was in a nursery. The walls were painted a soft, comforting blue, and a faint nightlight glowed brilliantly out of the corner of his eye. He opted to omit the other minute details as his breath hitched in his throat upon turning over his shoulder to find a white, wooden crib in the far corner of the room.

"Oh, hell."

He turned a bit more to face it, an unfamiliar swell of emotion rising in his chest.

He would feel it again when he finally met Pepper a couple of years into the future in a dream, sitting in her bedroom and looking utterly miserable after returning from a day of work with Aldrich Killian.

He craned his head a bit as he leaned closer, attempting to get a better look inside despite himself. A thin laugh escaped his lips upon noticing the bundle wrapped up inside, a plush giraffe tucked into its side.

"Nope," Tony popped the "p," shaking his head profusely as he looked up and around the room, noticing the door to his right. He lunged for it, jiggling the handle but to no avail. The door might as well have been sealed shut.

He cursed under his breath, avoiding looking back at the crib like it was the plague and instead focusing all of his energy on prying the door open with his bare hands.

They said you had your soulmate dream when you needed it the most.

He could guarantee any god that would listen that this was, in fact, the _last_ thing he needed.

"Nope. You've got it wrong, universe. You put me in someone else's dream. That's a baby. A human baby."

Tony's booming voice must have roused the baby from its rest because suddenly it was stirring, stretching its arms up and out of the bundle of blankets. Tony, unable to resist another peek behind his shoulder, found himself drawn to the baby's every movement, his legs suddenly taking him away from the door and toward the crib.

Tony placed his hands on the edge of the crib and watched with hypnotized awe as the baby let out a long yawn, opening its eyes slowly and staring up at Tony in wonder. Tony bit his lip and shook his head, holding in a scoff.

"Christ. A kid?"

The kid in question was suddenly beaming at him from ear to ear, reaching its hands out toward him. Tony stiffened, looking every which way behind him for a sign of any kind of adult that might stop him from holding this random kid he had _no_ emotional or physical attachment to whatsoever.

Yet, his thoughts contradicted his actions as he reached down and scooped the baby up in a familiar set of movements, holding it close to his chest.

"Easy does it," he spoke softly, bouncing his precious cargo as he sat down in a plush recliner in the opposite corner of the room. He patted the baby's back affectionately, his heart strangely at peace.

"What's your deal? I mean, did your folks leave you here? They sure as hell wanted to make sure you couldn't get out. Have you tried that door?"

The baby giggled at the sound of Tony's voice. Tony couldn't resist repositioning the baby into more of a cradled position in his arms in an attempt to see its face more clearly, holding its head gently in his calloused hand.

"What are you? A boy? You mind if I keep thinking of you as an 'it'?"

The baby giggled again, reaching a tiny hand up to grab Tony's nose. Tony laughed lightly with a content hum, bringing the baby closer to his face. Another tiny hand touched Tony's cheek in curiosity.

"You're a curious baby. You know that?"

 _My baby_ , a voice in the back of his head suddenly thought. Tony cleared his throat awkwardly at the idea, yet he found his voice coming out of his throat in a tender, soothing nature that was foreign to him, for the first time in his life feeling no obligation to fill the peaceful silence with witty banter.

"I hope they got it right up there. You know, the soulmate gods. I kinda like you."

Tony leaned his head back on the recliner with a tranquil sigh, frowning upon noticing the letters hung on the wall spelling out what he assumed to be the baby's name. 

_Peter_.

"Peter, huh? That's alright, I guess. I would've pegged you for a Casper, or a Remington."

Peter giggled every time Tony opened his mouth. As a result, Tony found himself doing it quite a lot for the remainder of the dream.

* * *

A few years passed, and Tony's dream was simply another forgotten memory.

People came and went, weapons were sold and shipped off, terrorists kidnapped and tortured.

He remembered sitting with Yinsen in that cave in Afghanistan, finding comfort in the conversations they would have over board games and the stack of cards one of the soldiers had begrudgingly tossed their way one evening.

"Got a family?" Tony asked absentmindedly one night, tossing the dice onto the board. 

"Yes," Yinsen avoided eye contact, gathering up the dice for himself, "and I will see them when I leave here."

A brief pause. Tony stared at his hands in his lap as he waited for his turn.

"And you, Stark?"

Tony looked up at that, a brief smile flashing across his face that barely reached his eyes.

"No."

"No?"

Yinsen reached forward and turned Tony's wrist over, revealing his mark.

 _Virginia_.

"That's uh," Tony shook his head profusely, recoiling his hand and shoving on one of his fingerless gloves. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he avoided Yinsen's knowing smirk.

"A soulmate, eh? Seems like family to me."

"No, she, uh," Tony swallowed thickly, "she hates me, I think. Wishes she didn't get stuck with Tony Stark as a soulmate."

"It takes time," Yinsen hummed, lifting his own wrist and rolling up the dirty sleeve of his white button-down shirt. He didn't reveal the name or the mark, instead quirking his lip up in a fond, reminiscent smile. "Just because they are your soulmate does not mean they should love right away."

"Doesn't it? I don't know how it works."

"No one does. No one should."

Tony scoffed, straightening on his stool and gesturing absentmindedly to the board.

"Your roll."

Yinsen rolled the dice and collecting the washers and bolts they had used as makeshift pieces off of the board.

"Just the one mark?"

Tony met his gaze again, fighting back a roll of his eyes at Yinsen's persistence though he was unable to hide the amusement in his eyes.

"Only one that I know of."

"You know, they say you can have up to three."

"Well," Tony shrugged, "I didn't even think I would get _one_."

"Don't be so sure."

Tony reached for the cup to his right, tossing the dice inside and shaking them up before tossing them back onto the board.

"Where did you and this Virginia meet?"

"Pepper."

"Sorry?"

"Pepper, I-I call her Pepper."

"What earned her that nickname?"

"Her, uh," Tony gestured to his face, his finger circling it in the air, "her face, it's covered in freckles. Like they were peppered on."

"Oh," Yinsen barked out a laugh. "That's quite funny."

"Yeah," Tony hummed fondly. "I thought so, too."

Another pause. Tony collected some more washers from his side of the board.

"She was hired by S.I. to work on our financing. She found an error in one of my calculations."

"An error you made?"

"Yep," Tony sighed. "Saved the company billions by fixing that one number."

Yinsen nodded with a smile, pushing his glasses further up to the bridge of his nose. Tony could detect the wise-ass, perceptive comment coming in a heartbeat.

"You know, Stark, life rarely gives you a second try."

Tony frowned, avoiding eye contact once again as he handed Yinsen the cup of dice. Yinsen took it, not once looking away from the man before him.

"There is a reason you're not dead yet, and it has nothing to do with the Jericho Missile."

Tony hung his head. Yinsen was nothing if not persistent, Tony had learned that much.

"You are capable of more love and benevolence than you realize. Don't forget that when we get out of here."

And he didn't. He thought about it every single day after his escape.

After Tony and Pepper got their marks upon meeting, Tony was quick to assume that the whole soulmate debacle everyone dealt with in life was a done deal for him. He wouldn't have to spend an eternity searching the ends of the earth for a hypothetical person, wouldn't have to grow grey hairs wondering if his soulmate had already passed him by, wouldn't stress about lost opportunities.

Yet Rhodey was often the first to call him out on his bullshit when it came to having a soulmate. Rhodey knew him better than anyone, probably even more than Pepper.

" _You're the kind of guy to have more than one, Tones_ ," Rhodey snorted, nudging Tony's shoulder playfully. " _Pepper's great, but there's more of you to love, you know_."

It wasn't like Tony was going to get his hopes up over a biased hypothetical. He assumed Rhodey simply forgot that Tony was, at the end of the day, a weapons manufacturer, forgot that he had an insatiable drive to create new things with his hands and only had time for one soulmate, forgot that his heart was too broken and weak to love anyone other than Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper.

But Rhodey, for some annoying reason, assured Tony that this wasn't the last leg of his journey to finding a soulmate. 

And Tony was having another one of those nostalgic, familiar dreams.

* * *

It was 2010. Nine years after Tony Stark's dream about the baby named Peter, though he didn't remember that until he was dreaming that baby again, only this time the baby was nine-years-old and wearing a ridiculous plastic Iron-Man helmet.

 _Still, a_ _baby,_ Tony's brain asserted.

Tony knew who he was in a heartbeat, tilting his head fondly as he watched the boy playing carelessly with his action figures on the ground, his back to the billionaire. They were in a bedroom, though it was unfortunately not that sky blue-painted bedroom he had found such tranquility and contentment in all those years ago. It was a tan-painted one, with a racecar bed frame and those glow-in-the-dark stars plastered all over the ceiling. There was the distinct smell of something baking from somewhere in the distance, but once again his brain was glazing over the minute details for the sake of the only one in the room, in the _universe,_ that mattered.

"So, we meet again, half-pint."

The kid turned over his shoulder in a split second, his shoulders bouncing in a gasp. Tony's heart gushed all over again at the kid's quirks as he watched him throw his mask onto the ground, his brown curls bouncing with a well-defined youthfulness to them. Freckles were peppered across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks.

”Peter, isn't it?”

"Iron Man?!"

God, the warmth was becoming unbearable.

Tony huffed out a laugh, sauntering closer to the boy and gesturing to his makeshift play mat.

"'Tony' is fine. Mind if I join?"

Peter said nothing, simply looking down at the carpet he had spread his toys out on with wide eyes as he made space for Tony. Tony crouched down and crisscrossed his legs, clearing his throat and smiling fondly at the kid.

Except as the kid grinned up at Tony like he was the most thrilling sight on the planet, not once questioning the man's presence, Tony's entire world was grinding to a halt upon noticing the unmistakable "Stark Expo" shirt thrown over the kid's small frame and the classic gloved gauntlets wrapped on his tiny hands.

Tony started, his breath hitching painfully in his throat as an overwhelming, confusing urge to protect the child sitting before him was suddenly crashing into him with full-force, reminding him of what could have been that night.

"You...you were...?"

"I went to the Stark Expo with my Uncle!" Peter exclaimed, holding up his Iron Man action figure with pride. Tony's heart was sinking now, so quickly that he wasn't sure if it had the strength to pick up and beat again. "I saw you! It was really cool. I mean, before the robots attacked and stuff. I was really scared for my uncle, so I used my gloves to kill one of them. You were there, too! You said-"

"Nice work, kid," Tony muttered in unison with him, not once taking his horror-stricken eyes off of the bright-eyed, goofy-eared kid before him. Peter nodded, holding out his action figure in Tony’s face.

”I wanna be just like you.”

And at that, Tony wished the kid had just stuck a bullet in his chest, because those words were equivalent to the feeling.

Instead, unable to control himself, Tony was leaning forward slowly and wrapping Peter into his arms, one fist clutching his shirt and the other his hair. Peter accepted the hug instantly, dropping the action figure and wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck.

Tony rose from the ground with his precious cargo cradled protectively in his arms, crossing to the racecar bed and sitting himself down near the pillow. He swung his legs up over the frame of the bed and laid himself down on the mattress, Peter still wrapped around him like a monkey. Upon further examination, Tony realized with a content sigh that the kid was asleep.

He leaned his head back onto the wall and stared at the stars on the ceiling thoughtfully. He didn’t know what was happening, but his eyes were filming over with tears, and his chest was clutching so tight he wasn’t sure how he was breathing, and this makeshift paradise hidden deep in the fortress of his mind was suddenly fading away into dust.

Tony awoke with a gasp, reaching up to clutch his chest desperately. His arms had been wrapped around his frame while he had slept, as if he were holding something.

Or someone.

”Tony? Tony?”

Pepper was bolting upright, her hands holding Tony’s head cautiously. She searched his half-asleep eyes desperately for an explanation.

”Sorry,” he choked out, closing his eyes and taking a recalibrating breath. “Sorry, Pep.”

”No, Tony, stop. Did you have another nightmare?”

His brow furrowed in confusion, because he honestly wasn’t sure. He didn’t remember, but there was a peculiar warmth, a spark that was sizzling into nothing in his heart, and a deep sadness suddenly overtook his entire being.

”I’m-I’m just gonna go get some water, Pep. Go back to sleep.”

”Remember that whole thing on the roof, Tony? About how my body couldn't handle the stress? Do you?"

"How could I forget?"

Pepper’s mouth snapped closed as Tony leaned forward and planted a quick, habitual kiss on Pepper's lips before he was jumping out of bed and making his way frantically to the kitchen.

”JARVIS,” he gasped, leaning over the kitchen counter. “What’s happening? Did I have a heart attack in my sleep?”

”No sign of cardiac anomaly, sir,” JARVIS’s gentle voice replied from above. “However, I detected a specific pattern of brain activity while you were sleeping.”

”Oh, okay,” Tony snorted despite himself, regaining his breath as he laid his hands flat on the kitchen island. “Okay. So, just another nightmare, basically. The usual.”

”No, sir, this does not appear to be an effect of your Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

”Well, people have nightmares, JARVIS. PTSD or not. That’s all it was.”

”The specific brain activity I was referring to was that of a person experiencing a soulmate dream during REM sleep.”

Tony froze, his rapidly beating heart sparing only a moment to freeze before picking back up with an intensified thundering. 

“What’re you saying?”

”Tony Stark,” Tony swore he could hear the humor in JARVIS’s voice as he spoke, “it would appear that you have not one, but _two_ soulmates.”

Tony turned, leaned against the counter, and sunk down to the ground, his back resting against the island with his knees brought up to his chest. With the wind knocked out of him and the ground beneath him beginning to crumble, he swallowed thickly, his voice nothing but a weak croak.

”...Me?”

”Yes, sir. You.”

”But,” Tony was shaking his head again, fumbling through his brain in an attempt to distinguish a single coherent thought. “But I-I have Pepper.”

”As far as research can tell, a person can have up to three soulmates. It appears you have found your second.”

”But I haven’t. I haven’t found him.”

”Haven’t you?” JARVIS countered, and Tony was convinced for a moment that JARVIS had picked up on Tony’s wit after all these years. “You know that they are male.”

”W-what? When did I-“

JARVIS’s overhead speaker crackled for a split second before replaying their conversation.

” _As far as research can tell, a person can have up to three soulmates. It appears you have found your second._ ”

” _But I haven’t. I haven’t found him._ ”

Tony clicked his tongue, his lip quirking up into a smile despite himself.

”Yeah, yeah, okay. You’ve proven your point.”

”I am happy for you, sir.”

Tony fought a wider smile as he ran a tired hand over his face, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief.

_Yinsen, you son of a bitch._

* * *

Almost every night after that for two years, Tony got a visit from his second soulmate.

He found for the first time in his life that he enjoyed sleep far more than reality. He was even _excited_ about it on occasion. He never knew why specifically, but he craved the high he got when he got to hold the kid in his arms every night, got to cradle his head in his hand delicately, got to listen to his persistent ramblings.

”And then, the aliens were like, ‘roar’! And-and my Uncle and I _booked_ it out of there, and we ran straight to my aunt’s hospital, but the streets were all empty-“

”Right, because of the aliens.”

”Because of the aliens. It was insane.”

Peter paused his rambling and spared the Iron Man action figure lying discarded on his carpet a quick glance before he bit his lip anxiously, a sigh causing his shoulders to drop.

”I was really scared you were gonna die out there today.”

Tony hummed thoughtfully, rubbing soothing circles on Peter’s back.

_Jesus, this kid is bony._

”I think I was scared you were gonna die, too. But I didn’t know that then.”

Another pause. Tony slapped his thighs as he rose from Peter’s bed and began sauntering around the room, looking at Peter’s toys and photos thoughtfully.

”But you had your uncle. So you were safe.”

”Yeah.”

At this point, after two years of always showing up here in his dreams, Tony had memorized the kid’s room. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was wasting his time analyzing every minute detail of it at that moment, but there was an awkward tension in the room that had never existed before and he found himself unable to be with Peter in the moment.

But then, a quiet whimper sounded from behind him and he was turning on his heel in a second, lunging toward Peter habitually and holding him gently by the shoulders.

”What’s wrong, baby?”

Peter sniffled, rubbing at his eyes behind his glasses in embarrassment though he was unable to hide the bouncing of his shoulders.

”I-I want to meet you. I want to remember. I want to meet you before you die.”

”I’m not dying, Petey. Promise.”

”You almost did. Today, with the aliens.”

”So did you.” 

"A-And you almost died that one time. In the desert."

"And _you_ almost died at the Stark Expo two years ago. We could go back and forth all day, Petey-Pie."

Peter frowned, shaking his head profusely and taking in another recalibrating, though shaky, inhale. Tony simply watched him in wonder, reaching a warm hand forward to cup the boy’s cheek and once again being absolutely floored by the kid’s existence.

”I’m not going anywhere, baby. If I did, who would keep the city safe for clumsy kids like you?”

”I’m not clumsy.”

With a raised brow, Tony seized Peter’s left arm and lifted it, displaying his bruised, still bleeding elbow.

He had tried to be nonchalant about it, but now that Tony could see the wound in full, concern was seeping into his gaze.

”Petey, how long were you planning on hiding this?”

”I didn’t want to worry my Aunt and Uncle.”

”You’ll worry them more if you let this get infected.”

”There were aliens flying around, okay! You can’t blame me for scratching myself up a little.”

”I can and I will. Have you forgotten that I do what I want?”

Peter attempted a scowl, though it turned out to be more of a scrunched up face than a threat.

“Well,” Tony sighed, “I can’t do your arm much good in a dream, but luckily you have an Aunt that’s a nurse that can fix that right up for you. Promise me you’ll let her take a look in the morning?”

”I guess,” Peter mumbled. “But I won’t remember this.” 

“Oh, you will,” Tony assured him, gently lifting Peter’s arm and kissing the area above his wound. “But there, I kissed your boo-boos. Now, it won’t hurt as much.”

Peter let out a groan of embarrassment, though his beaming smile remained.

”Mr. Staaaaark.”

”Yeah, yeah. I’m the worst.”

Peter leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Tony as tightly as he could, squeezing his eyes closed. Tony returned the gesture in a heartbeat, rubbing Peter’s back and holding a fistful of his curls.

”I love you, Tony.”

Tony’s heart melted, his breath taken away as he leaned down to plant a firm kiss on Peter’s head.

”I love you too, Pete. More than anything.”

And, in a painful, all too quick swipe, his makeshift heaven was crumbling around him, and he was awake.

* * *

Getting your soulmate mark _hurt_.

When Tony first touched Pepper, they both recoiled with a hiss of pain and held their wrists for a good ten minutes as the mark burned itself into their skin.

Tony found irony in it. A brief period of excruciating pain in exchange for a lifetime of heaven on Earth. 

After JARVIS had diagnosed Tony’s second soulmate, he decided to do some research. There was nothing to be found on loopholes or communicating with your soulmate outside of the dream world, but he read somewhere that whenever your soulmate was in pain or dying, you felt pain in your wrist until it passed. 

Tony didn’t remember this fact until working for three hours straight in his lab and ignoring the dull throb of pain coming from the veins on his right wrist. Which didn’t entirely make sense to him, seeing as there was no mark on his right hand. Pepper’s was on his left.

And it was at that moment that Tony was overcome with an overwhelming, albeit confusing, wave of panic.

He lunged for his bottle of sleeping pills and gulped down about three of them before he threw himself down on the lab couch, trying desperately to calm his racing heart.

He didn’t know who his soulmate was. He didn’t know what kind of trouble they could be in. But they had been in pain for about three hours now, and that thought alone made Tony’s heart ache with excruciating intensity.

It took him forty-five minutes to finally succumb to sleep, and as soon as he was coherent enough in his dream, he was searching desperately for Peter.

He was in the kid’s bedroom again. It was that same tan-painted one, although after nearly four years of maturing and self-discovery, the race car bed frame had been switched out for a twin bed and the stars ripped from the ceiling.

He remembered the sadness he felt when he first saw the room had changed. He wished it would stay youthful forever. Hell, he wished every night to be sent back to that baby-blue nursery, a bundle of beaming light wrapped protectively in his arms.

He shook himself out of his funk upon noticing that Peter wasn’t anywhere in sight, although the room looked like it had been turned on its side. Blankets were thrown about and draped across the furniture, Peter's desk chair was knocked over, and his window was left open. 

Tony wasn’t sure if it would do any good in the real world, but he found himself crossing to the window and sealing it shut.

He began to panic now. Even in his sleep, that throbbing pain he had felt all afternoon was beginning to worsen, and with Peter nowhere to be found, he could only assume the worst.

“Peter?” he called, tearing open the closet door. As if on cue, the bedroom door was swinging open, the knob smacking against the wall. Tony jumped, and for a moment, his feet became glued to the floor as he took in the sight before him.

It was Peter, wearing an oversized t-shirt, boxer shorts, and mismatched socks. A sheet was draped across his shoulders, his face completely drained of color and his hair plastered to his forehead in sweat.

”Tony?”

”It’s me, kiddo,” Tony rushed forward in an instant upon overcoming his stupor, seizing the kid by the shoulders before scooping the kid up in one swift, rehearsed motion. “I’m here. I’m here, it’s okay.”

”Tony,” Peter gasped out, collapsing onto the mattress and instantly curling up underneath the sheet. He looked so much tinier in this state than he really was, and it made Tony’s heart clench even tighter in his chest. 

Tony knelt down beside the bed, his gaze searching Peter up and down feverishly.

“What happened?” Tony shook his head, petting some of Peter’s curls off of his sweaty forehead and cupping his face. “Food poisoning? Flu?”

Peter was shivering now, and upon further examination, Tony realized that his eyes were bloodshot. He felt another wave of uneasiness wash over him.

”Peter, baby, you gotta talk to me.”

Tony leaned forward and took Peter’s hand in his, though he jumped back in alarm as Peter let out a cry of pure agony at the gesture, recoiling his hand in a split second and curling back underneath his thin sheet.

”What was that? What’s wrong with your hand?”

Peter shook his head frantically, his teeth chattering as he swallowed bile and attempted to form a coherent sentence.

“Go,” he rasped. “Tony, g-go-“

Tony didn’t listen, instead sneaking his hand through the sheet and seizing Peter by the wrist, turning over his right hand and staring at the back of it for a little longer than he needed to.

Maybe it was the gravity of the situation or the fact that he had forced himself to sleep with pills, but his reactions were a little too delayed for his liking.

The back of Peter’s hand had a red, swollen bump on it, the veins surrounding the wound branching off into a dark, purple color, unnervingly unnatural under Peter’s snow-white skin. 

“Peter,” Tony started slowly, his voice quivering despite his attempt to maintain a gentle demeanor, both for Peter's sake and his own. He hoped to god that Peter couldn’t hear his heart thundering in his chest. “Baby, what happened to you?”

”Please,” Peter choked out, squeezing his eyes shut as tears began trickling down the side of his face. “Please, help. I don’t-I-I can’t- _ugh-_ “

”Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Tony lurched forward onto the mattress and began positioning himself between the wall and Peter so that Peter was cradled in his arms. Another surge of agony coursed through Peter's entire body as another miserable cry escaped him. Tony could do nothing but watch helplessly, taking Peter's hand in his and kissing his head over and over and over. His heart shattered into a billion pieces as Peter’s bony figure trembled in his hold, though he leaned into his warmth despite having begged him to go not even a minute prior.

Tony reached for the blanket across the foot of the bed and draped it over Peter’s curled up body. He took a firm hold of the kid’s good hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze every few minutes to let him know that he was still there, that Peter could tell him anything in the world. 

Though, he had to admit, he hoped squeezing the kid's hand would keep him tethered in the dream for a little while longer.

Tony suddenly despised a universe that would force him to helplessly watch his baby endure excruciating pain.

”Petey,” Tony started carefully, running a hand through Peter’s sweat-drenched curls. “Baby, you need to tell me what happened. I need to know that you’ll be okay when I wake up. What did this to you?”

”Spider,” Peter croaked, his hand beneath the blankets twitching at the idea of it. “S-Spider bite.”

”Where-what kind of spider could do this to you, buddy?”

”Oscorp. Radioactive.”

Any color left in Tony’s face had completely drained at Peter’s muttered words.

He once again had no choice but to curse a universe that would give him such a reckless love only to snatch it away the next morning.

And, as if on cue, the room around him began to fade in and out of existence. 

Tony paled even more, instinctually holding Peter tighter in his arms.

”No, no, no, no, _no_.”

”Tony,” Peter’s voice filled with raw panic as he summoned all of the energy left in him and held himself up enough to look Tony in the eye, taking Tony’s hand firmly in his. “I don’t want you to go. Please, don’t leave me alone. Please stay.”

”Peter,” Tony’s eyes glossed over with tears as his lip quivered uncontrollably. “Baby, I can’t-I don’t know what to do-“

As Peter lurched forward to wrap himself up in Tony’s arms, Peter was vanishing into a cloud of nothing, his disappearance striking such a devastating chord in Tony’s heart that he woke with fresh tears running down his face.

* * *

The next night, Tony’s dream self chided his physical self for not rushing to sleep sooner as the memories of the night before crashed into him like a train.

When Tony came to, he noticed first and foremost that Peter was sitting on his bed, though he looked almost completely opposite compared to how he looked the night prior. He was on his phone, his curls sticking up on end rather than plastered against his sweaty skin. His cheeks held that familiar rose tint that Tony had grown to adore, and he was dressed in sweats and a hoodie rather than sweat-drenched pajamas.

”Peter?”

Peter’s head snapped up at the gentle call and he was suddenly lurching forward from his bed, wrapping his arms around the billionaire in the tightest grip Tony had ever felt.

”Tony!”

”Woah-hey, Petey.”

Tony was grinning from ear to ear as he hugged the kid back, breathing out a breath of relief and planting multiple firm kisses against Peter’s head.

”Christ, kid. I thought I lost you.”

”I’m okay,” Peter pulled out the hug and met Tony’s feverish eyes with his own jubilant ones, seemingly not having a care in the world. “Actually, I feel great.”

Tony was skeptical, of course. He reached forward and seized Peter’s hand, flipping it over and scanning the back of it for any mountain-like spider bites.

Instead, he found a small, red blemish, barely noticeable at all unless you knew what to look for. Tony blinked incredulously at it, his gaze shifting from the healed wound to Peter’s elated smile.

”Do you maybe wanna explain to me exactly what the hell happened to you last night? Actually, scratch that. You don’t have a choice in this. Time to fess up.”

Peter groaned but complied, sitting Tony down on his twin bed and explaining everything to him as thoroughly as he could.

”I can tell you...anything, right?”

”I won't tell anyone,” Tony joked, miming zipping his lips shut and flicking away the key. "Cross my heart."

Peter nodded, licking his lips as he struggled to distinguish an appropriate start to his story.

"I think I have superpowers."

"No, you don't."

Peter was admittedly shocked at Tony's defiant disposition.

"What?" Peter frowned, studying his hands carefully. "What do you mean? You don't know that."

"I do. You don't."

Peter scoffed, shaking his head with a knowing look in his eyes. 

"Tony. Please. I'm trying to be honest here."

"You don't have superpowers, kid. Superpowers aren't real."

"Uh, Captain America? The Hulk? Thor?"

"Not real," Tony shrugged. "PR stunt by SHIELD."

Peter deadpanned, collapsing back into his desk chair with his legs dangling as he raised a tired hand up to run down his face.

"Pete, listen, you have to understand. Last night I got here and you were _dying_. Okay? You could barely speak. Can you blame me for being a little cautious here?"

"Cautious? You're not being anything. You're being domineering."

"Don't make up words, Petey."

"Just-ugh, listen to me, Tony!" Peter stood from the bed, crossing to the opposite wall. "That spider bite did something to me. It made me...stronger."

Tony raised an eyebrow quizzically at him before Peter was placing a hand on the wall, then another, then his foot, then his other foot.

And he wasn't...falling.

Tony did a double-take, blinking a couple of times to make sure that his eyes weren't deceiving him. Peter was sticking to the wall, turning his head over his shoulder to face Tony.

"Believe me now?"

"This is a dream, isn't it?" Tony reasoned, taking a deep inhale and trying desperately to maintain his calm, casual demeanor. "It's just a dream. This isn't real."

Peter groaned, jumping off of the wall and crossing back over to Tony, taking his hand.

"Watch this."

Peter barely squeezed Tony's hand, yet Tony was yelping in surprise at the strength of it, recoiling his hand with a wince and cradling it in his other.

"Very cool, Petey. Hell of a grip." 

Peter, at his last straw, reached over to his desk and ripped the top drawer open, digging his hand inside and taking out a pocket knife. He flipped it open, the slash of the blade echoing in the small room. Tony stiffened, tilting his head slightly as Peter held out his palm.

"Pete, hey, wait a second. What're you doing?"

Peter brought the knife to his palm, holding it over his skin.

"Woah, woah, woah, _woah_ -!"

Peter slashed the knife across his hand, emitting a strained cry of pain as he let the knife topple to the ground, blood dripping down his palm and onto his wrist. Tony lunged forward instinctually, taking Peter's hand carefully and cradling it gently in his own with wide eyes, his head snapping up to meet Peter's gaze.

"Peter Benjamin Parker! Are you insane?!" 

"You don't believe me about having superpowers," Peter gasped out, his voice tense with discomfort. "This might help."

"What are you-?"

Tony stopped midsentence, his brow furrowed in bewilderment as the gash striped across Peter's palm began slowly but surely sealing itself shut, the skin on either side reconnecting as if it had never parted.

"No," Tony shook his head, reaching over to Peter's desk and snatching a t-shirt lying discarded on the surface of it, frantically wiping away the blood streaking itself down Peter's forearm. Sure enough, any sign of an injury had vanished from sight. "No, no, no, no. What?"

"See?" Peter brushed his hands together, holding them both up directly in Tony's face. "Super healing."

"No. You didn't really cut yourself. What'd you use, blood pellets?"

"Do I need to stab myself to prove my point?"

"No!' Tony hissed, reaching down to the ground and seizing the blood-covered knife, flipping it shut. "No, okay? Fine. I believe you."

Peter let out a breath of relief, his shoulders dropping. Tony simply collapsed back on Peter's bed in defeat, running a tired hand over his face.

"Kid, how did this happen? Why were you _ever_ at Oscorp? Do you have any idea what Norman Osborn is capable of?"

"It was a field trip," Peter explained, turning his desk chair around and plopping himself down on it, leaning forward. "For my science class."

"A field trip," Tony repeated, baffled. "Your school let you go to Oscorp. With a class."

"I don't see the problem here."

"The problem? The problem is that the worst possible outcome of visiting Oscorp willingly has already happened, and it happened to my _soulmate_. How were you even anywhere near a radioactive spider?"

"There was an exhibit! They-they were displaying them in these cases. They said there were fifteen, and MJ pointed out that there were actually fourteen, because the fifteenth wasn't in its case, and the tour guide lady told us that the researches were probably just working on it, but then...I looked down at my hand, and it was biting me, and here we are."

"Christ," Tony muttered under his breath, his shoulders suspended in tension. "Then what? You got sick? Did you even tell your aunt and uncle?"

"I didn't wanna worry them."

"You didn't wanna worry them."

"I didn't! I didn't even know what I would've told them. I thought I was going to die."

"Exactly, Peter. Exactly. You thought you were going to die and then you still sat in here alone and didn't ask for help."

"...You helped me."

"There's only so much I can do here, kid."

Peter said nothing, chewing on the inside of his cheek and watching sadly as Tony unraveled before him, running a weak hand through his hair. As frustrated as Tony was with him, Peter knew that it was out of a place of love.

"What happened after that?"

"I woke up," Peter continued carefully. "And I didn't need my glasses."

Tony deflated at that. He loved Peter's glasses.

"And I was _super_ ripped, it was, like, insane-"

Peter stopped himself upon noticing Tony's glare. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Then, I went to school, and my hands were really sticky. They just kept sticking to things, like my books and Ned's backpack and my phone. Also, I accidentally knocked someone out on the subway with my elbow. And I was getting really freaked out, so I..."

Peter's leg bounced in anxiety. Tony clenched his jaw, leaning forward with a deathly glare.

"Peter. What did you do?"

"I kinda...I snuck into Oscorp to find out more about the spider that bit me."

"You did _what_?"

"Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing!"

"I wouldn't have, because I never would have gone to Oscorp in the first place."

Another awkward beat of silence, and they weren't getting anywhere. Peter's leg continued to bounce anxiously as he crossed and uncrossed his hands, avoiding eye contact.

"Well, what did you find?"

"Uh," Peter swallowed thickly, closing his eyes as he recalled the previous day's events. "I was bitten by a radioactive, genetically modified super-spider. At least, that's what the little informational panel said."

Tony choked back a groan of agony at the sentence. 

"So, uh, basically, my DNA fused with the spider's DNA? And now I have these powers."

"Did you get caught? I mean, at Oscorp, did you get caught?"

"No. I have this new thing. I read about it in the lab I broke into. Basically, I have this new set of reflexes with nerve conduction velocity that allows me to sense danger."

Tony stared blankly at him. 

"A Spider-Sense. That's what they called it."

"They," Tony clarified, "They as in the crazed evil scientists that let radioactive spiders run rampant in their facilities."

Peter took in a deep, albeit shaky breath, ceasing the persistent bouncing of his leg and leaning forward to fill the gap between himself and Tony. Tony did the same, reaching a cautious hand forward to take Peter's hand.

"This isn't your fault," Tony started, reaching his other hand forward and lifting Peter's chin gently to elicit eye contact. "I'm sorry I'm being harsh. I just really care about you. I can't believe I get to be your soulmate. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

"I'm fine," Peter assured him, gesturing absentmindedly to the red blemish on the back of his hand. "This-its nothing."

"But we can't be sure. Not after what happened last night. This thing, it could be slowly killing you for all we know."

"Well," Peter shrugged, "I guess you'll just have to find me for real if you wanna know."

Tony laughed thinly, moving his hand from Peter's chin to his cheek and brushing the pad of his thumb fondly across it. 

"You're a real smart ass, you know that?"

"I know everything. I can't help it."

Tony sighed contentedly, leaning forward and planting a firm kiss on Peter's temple, his other hand cupping the back of Peter's neck protectively. Peter leaned into the gesture, enamored in Tony's warmth.

As Tony took in a deep breath, holding Peter in place, his makeshift heaven was once again fading around him, and he was awake.

* * *

The next night, for the first time, they weren't in Peter's bedroom. 

They were in an alley in New York City. The ground was moist with rain, a dim streetlight from above casting a melancholy glow over a teenage boy sitting defeated on the ground, covered in tears and blood.

_Peter._

His tear-stained face was being illuminated by distant sirens. Tony turned over his shoulder in confusion to see an ambulance driving off without its lights on and a swarm of police cars curving out of the alleyway.

Tony turned back toward Peter on a dime, lunging forward solely on intuition.

"Peter," he gasped out, collapsing to his knees and taking Peter firmly by the shoulders. He searched the kid up and down feverishly, the source of the blood nowhere in sight. 

Tony drank the kid in tortuously. His face was smeared with blood like he was the star of a zombie movie, and his eyes remained glued to the exit of the alleyway in a traumatized bewilderment. He didn't acknowledge Tony's presence, only worsening Tony's already rapidly beating heart.

"Petey, hey, can you hear me?"

Peter's lip quivered slightly, a fresh tear streaking down his face and taking some of the blood with it. His eyes drooped shut as he took in a shaky breath.

"He's gone."

"Who's gone, baby?"

Peter didn't answer. He looked down at his trembling, blood-covered hands, his breathing becoming more and more panicked.

"Peter, who's blood is this?"

Peter let out a strained sob at that, shaking his head in denial.

"This is a dream. This isn't real. This isn't real."

Tony looked up and around, analyzing every detail thoroughly.

"I don't know, kiddo. Looks a little too real for you to make up in a dream."

"This isn't real," Peter continued, his voice low and gravelly. "This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real."

"Hey, hey, it's okay."

Tony leaned forward and attempted to wrap his arms around Peter warily, though Peter flinched at the notion, backing away on his hands and staring at Tony with wide, glossy eyes.

Tony flinched sadly at the kid's actions, his frantic, scattered breathing echoing throughout the buildings of the alley. Tony shook his head in confusion, searching Peter's eyes for an explanation. 

"Peter..."

"I can't lose one more thing that I love," Peter said quietly, scrambling to get to his feet. He backed away from Tony cautiously, and Tony realized at that moment that Peter had practically been sitting in a pool of blood. Ice shot through his veins at the sight of it, and he was jumping to his feet, too, his hand out cautiously as if surrendering to Peter's frenzy.

"You haven't lost anyone, Petey."

"My uncle is _dead_."

"...What?"

"I got these powers," Peter started, a dry laugh escaping him as he shook his head in disbelief. "But there was no point. Because I couldn't even protect the one thing, the _one person_ that mattered."

Tony hated himself for being relieved that the blood Peter was drenched in wasn't his, but Ben Parker's.

"Oh, Peter, baby, come here."

"No," Peter shook his head, holding his hands out and stumbling backward. "No. Don't touch me. Please."

Peter turned on his heel and rounded the corner of the alley, vanishing from sight. Tony made a move to follow, though he didn't make it far as the makeshift hell around him began to crumble.

Tony was guiltily relieved to be awake after that.

* * *

The few following nights after that, Tony's visits with Peter were strained and rather devastating.

It affected his conscious self because upon waking up every morning, he continually started his day with a heavy heart. He didn't know why, of course, until he succumbed to sleep and sat with Peter, held him while he cried, assured him that he would be okay. He even almost forgot about Peter's claim that he had superpowers.

That is, until one night, after a day of reading articles and watching youtube videos of a masked vigilante, known to the public by the alias "Spider-Man," he was dreaming again, sitting a chair down in front of Peter in a quizzical, catechizing manner as the kid sat on the edge of his twin bed.

"Hello, Peter."

Peter frowned at Tony's use of his real name, which really only came out of his mouth during serious circumstances.

"Hi...what're you-?"

"Me first."

Tony fished his phone out of his pocket, lifting it up in the air and throwing up a hologram of a youtube video. Peter immediately froze at the sight of it, his gaze darting apprehensively from Tony's stare to the video.

A man was attempting to break into a car. He was suddenly being yanked away from the door of the vehicle by a strange, webbed material, a masked vigilante swinging across the camera. The recording froze in place. 

"...That's _you_ ," Tony began warily, "right?"

"Uh," Peter shook his head, a nervous laugh escaping him as he stiffened his posture on the bed. "Um, no, no. What do you mean?"

The video started up again, this time displaying the vigilante swinging past the camera at lightning speed and jumping in front of a car right before it could crash into the side of a metro bus. The vigilante held the car up in the air, dropping it as gently as they could.

"3,000 pounds," Tony's words were laced thickly with enough venom to take Peter out on the spot. "Forty miles an hour."

"No, I don't think so," Peter clenched his jaw apprehensively. "Because, I mean, that's all done on a computer. I mean, you found that on the internet, right?"

In one swift motion, Tony was reaching for the broom propped up against the wall to his left, thrusting it up toward the ceiling and exposing the Spider-Man suit hidden in the attic entrance. The suit bounced in the air as it remained tied to the hatch with a white rope.

"That's not-"

"Peter Benjamin Parker," Tony snapped, stopping Peter by placing a firm hand on his chest to keep him from lunging toward the suit. Tony knew full well that Peter could stop him, could out-maneuver him, but the kid didn't and Tony sinfully found himself using the inclination of his soulmate to his advantage, knowing that Peter wouldn't use his strength on Tony unless he absolutely had to. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Jury's out," Peter used Tony's classic one-liner in an attempt to dampen the forest fire igniting in Tony's chest.

He was unsuccessful. Tony exuded pure wrath, his breaths uneven and his gaze venomous.

"You have to stop. Simple. You're done."

"No, I'm not. You can't tell me what to do, remember? What we do in these dreams doesn't affect what we do outside of them."

Tony raised his jaw, slapping his hands on his thighs and snapping up from his seat.

"Alright, then. This isn't going to work."

Peter frowned, standing from the bed and following Tony loosely. He watched as Tony jiggled the knob of the door, banging on it with his fist.

"I want out. I'm done."

"What do you mean you're done?"

"I mean I'm out, finished, gone, over and done with, ancient history, take your pick. I don't want to be your soulmate anymore."

"What! Why?!"

"Because you don't listen, and you're a smart ass, and you're insubordinate, and I have a heart condition."

"You don't mean it."

"I am not," Tony turned on his heel, marching toward Peter and stabbing a finger in Peter's shoulder, standing mere centimeters from the kid, "going to stay here and watch you kill yourself. You hear me? I won't. I refuse."

"I'm not killing myself," Peter retaliated, words level and spiteful. "I'm saving lives. I'm, like, an Avenger."

"Stop. Just stop."

"Well, I'm at least a superhero!"

"No, Peter, you're not!"

A beat. Peter chewed the inside of his cheek in thought before scoffing and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"So-so, what? You just-you hate me? You wish we had never met here? Really?"

"No, dammit, I love you! I love you so much, and _that_ _'s_ the problem!"

Peter blinked, fighting back a stupid grin as Tony huffed in front of him, his eyes searching Peter's feverishly.

"You know what, I get it now. I get what Pepper meant."

"You get what?"

"I can't take this. My body can't handle the stress."

"Are you serious right now?"

"I have a heart condition. Starks are notorious for dying too young. Is that what you want for me?"

"Yeah, okay."

Tony shook his head, mirroring Peter's disbelief. He spared a moment to look back up at the suit suspended from the ceiling, then to the room itself.

After Ben's death, Peter and May had relocated to another apartment in Queens. According to Peter, May said the apartment was temporary due to Ben's funeral expenses and the loss of two steady incomes. Tony hated it, swore on his life that he would force himself to remember in the morning and buy Peter and May a condo overlooking the city, but that wasn't how it worked, and two months later, the Parkers were still living in a much smaller apartment than the one Peter had practically been raised in.

He did, however, appreciate the return of the baby blue walls. The same walls that reminded Tony that Peter was his practically his child, his _baby_ , and his baby was moonlighting as a crime-fighting spider vigilante, stopping runaway cars, thieves, _gun-wielding robbers_ _-_

Tony sighed, bringing both hands up to cup Peter's face. He stared at Peter harshly, studying every inch of his face in an attempt to get his anger to dissolve and melt into the love that had driven it.

"I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

Peter said nothing, his gaze morphing from confused to uncomfortable. He bit his lip, avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I know."

"And there's only room in this relationship for one Avenger. I mean, that's just a given."

"I'll settle for superhero."

"Not in that onesie, you won't. You have _got_ to reassess."

Peter frowned. Tony ceased his grip on Peter's face, gesturing to Peter up and down and then to his homemade suit.

"You are in dire need of an upgrade. Systemic, top to bottom, hundred-point restoration."

"That," Peter pointed to the suit in embarrassment, "is literally the best I can do."

"I know. We're just going to have to meet, and in the meantime, you have to stay alive. Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try."

Tony's eyes found Peter's in a more sensitive manner as he stared fondly at him, leaning forward and wrapping Peter up into a bone-crushing hug. He planted a firm kiss on Peter's head, closing his eyes contentedly. 

"I love you, kiddo. I hope you know that."

"I do. And I love you too, even though you don't want to be my soulmate anymore."

"Yeah, give me a break."

* * *

The next week, Tony Stark finished the prototype suit he had been working on.

He wasn't sure why he had been working on it, or why he made it. He wasn't sure why he had taken such a keen interest in the masked vigilante from Queens that had become notorious as the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. All he knew was that the hero was skilled and in dire need of an upgrade, and Tony just so happened to be a well-funded expert at fixing things.

It wasn't hard to find out who Spider-Man was. He wasn't trained, and he was sloppy, and Tony easily narrowed down a home address. 

Peter B. Parker. Sophomore at Midtown School of Science and Technology. Both parents deceased after an airplane crash. 

_Yeesh_.

With Peter Parker's unusually attractive aunt having been recently widowed in a freak accident and with Peter's obviously under-funded nighttime escapades, Tony thought it best not to endanger Peter's identity by recklessly delivering him a multi-million dollar suit to his newly-purchased, mold-infested apartment in Queens.

Instead, of course, he had it delivered straight to Peter's bedroom, albeit illegally, while the kid was at school.

He busied himself for the rest of the day, finding himself strangely leaving his phone face up as he anticipated a phone call from a kid that everyone had criticized Tony for recruiting over the last week of his work on Peter's suit.

* * *

When Peter got home from school, he almost didn't notice the sleek, metal briefcase lying on the bottom bunk of his bed.

He blinked incredulously at it, calling down the hall for May knowing full well that she wasn't home.

He walked toward it cautiously, his Spider-Sense strangely silent as he quickly retrieved the folded note resting on top of the case. He narrowed his eyes as he flipped it open, reading every word thoughtfully.

" _Spider-Man,_

_Please accept this minor upgrade. I'll consider sparing you a couple million dollars in exchange for a little meet and greet. Stark Tower, five o'clock sharp. Wear the suit._

_T.S._ "

Peter turned the paper over and discovered a phone number printed on the back, his mouth running dry as he looked up from the note and stared at the case.

"No way..."

He reached forward, clicked it open, and it was unfolding, revealing a neatly-folded, upgraded Spider-Man suit. He guffawed at the sight, running a hand through his hair as his wide eyes remained glued to the case.

He was eagerly removing it from its holding station, admiring the material and meticulous, fastidious details before sliding it on, pulling his mask over his face.

He shoved a hand into his backpack lying discarded on the ground and fumbled for his phone, a shaky hand inputting the phone number printed on the note. He held his breath as the dial tone resounded on the other line before clicking.

"Mr. Parker."

"Hi, I-y-yes, I'm-I'm Peter-Peter Parker."

Peter, for some reason, could practically see Tony's knowing smirk on the other line.

"That you are. You get the suit? You like it?"

"Y-yeah, it's-it's _perfect_ , Mr. Stark. Thank you. But, uh, if you don't mind me asking, how did you know who I was-?"

"You know, you can make phone calls from the suit," Tony ignored. "You don't have to call me from your Samsung."

"Really?!"

Tony hummed a laugh on the other line.

"It's not five yet, but you can go ahead and swing on over to the tower. You'll have to load the web shooter cartridges with your own webbing. I couldn't manufacture it in-house, that tensile strength is too off the charts to be replicated second-handedly."

Peter laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Anyway. See you in ten, kid. End call."

The other line clicked. Peter stood frozen in place for a beat too long before he was crossing to his window, tearing it open and swinging at lightning speed toward Stark tower.

* * *

"Sir, it appears that there is a possible 'Avengers Level Threat' located on East 71st Street. Shall we engage?"

"Hm," Tony snorted, rising from his workbench begrudgingly and sauntering over the monitor located in the corner of his lab in the tower, displaying said threat from several angles. "Remind me to update your code names. Anyway, what've we got here, exactly?"

"A shape-shifting Makluan alien. It appears to have been genetically bred at Oscorp Industries from a sample of Makluan alien DNA tracked back to Earth by Thor."

"Of course," Tony clicked his tongue. "So, we've got to go clean up another one of Norman Osborn's messes, basically."

"Actually," FRIDAY paused, "Spider-Man might have it handled, boss."

Tony frowned, swiping a finger across the monitor and zooming in to get a closer look. Sure enough, video footage displayed Spider-Man trying desperately to web up a hideous horned beast, bearing a striking resemblance to Norman Osborn's Green Goblin although this specific breed of monster had a long, disgusting neck, with fins protruding from the sides, almost like it was a Lochness Monster on legs with the mouth of a trout. 

"Call the Spider Suit."

The speakers in the lab clicked to life before suddenly, Peter's frantic breathing and grunting were echoing throughout the room.

"How you doing, Spiderling?"

"Wha-Mr. Stark?!"

"Hiya, Pete. I see you got stuck in a bit of a traffic jam on your way over. Need an assist?"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. It looks like- _ow_ -it looks like I'm gonna be super late."

"No-yeah, kid, that's okay. I'm asking if you need any help. Limited time offer."

"I mean, uh, sure! W-why not? I've got it completely handled over here, but, you know, a little help couldn't hurt."

"Perfect. Be there in a jiff. End call."

"Okay-"

Tony turned on his heel, crossing to the window of the lab.

He thought for a moment about activating his suit and fighting alongside Spider-Man for the first time, analyzing his fighting patterns up close and personal.

On the other hand...the urge that rose within him to trick the kid and instead watch the fight from one of his private choppers was a little too tempting.

"Whaddya say, FRI? Good ol' fashioned hazing?"

"A chopper is ready for you up top, sir."

He smirked despite himself, making strides toward the elevator and punching in the top floor, making his way to the Stark tower helipad.

* * *

" _Fin Fang Foom_!"

"Jesus!"

Peter lunged out of the way as a car came flying his way, catching a string of webbing on a nearby building a catapulting his foot into the alien's face. The dragon-like creature roared in frustration, swinging its neck around and reaching a long, clawed hand forward, missing Peter's ankle by a hair.

"Is that the only sentence you know? I'm not judging, it's just getting a little repetitive."

" _Fin Fang FOOM_!"

The creature slammed two fists down on the road, a stream of energy surging toward Peter at lightning speed. The concrete of the road uprooted at the action, sending Peter flying into the air and crashing directly into the side of a building. He thrust a few webs the alien's way, though they did nothing but buy him some time.

Honestly, he was beginning to panic a little. It had been fifteen minutes since Tony had called, and there was a rather notable absence of Iron-Man as the screams of civilians echoed throughout the neighboring streets. As much as Peter wanted to maintain a professional and brawny demeanor around the billionaire, he knew he couldn't take this beast on his own.

As if on cue, the distinct sound of the whirring blades of a helicopter sounded overhead. Peter assumed absentmindedly that it was simply a news station getting a birds-eye view of the catastrophe unfolding on the streets of New York City and maintained his unwavering focus on the beast.

"Hey, Underoos!"

Peter snapped his head up at the sky, the eyes of his mask widening.

The helicopter that had flown over the battle had one side open, with Tony leaning out of it and waving down at the kid. His sunglasses were unable to mask the amusement in his eyes, nor the smart ass wink he sent Peter's way.

"What're you doing?!"

"I'm helping!"

"I'm sorry, sir, I can't hear you-!"

A hand was wrapping itself around Peter and sending him flying into the side of another building. He groaned, peeling off of the wall like a pancake and falling flat on the ground below.

"I'll just-I'll call you!" Tony concluded from above, waving a hand absentmindedly Peter's way.

Peter rose with his fists suspended in preparation, lunging into the air and landing a punch to the alien's eye.

" _Fin Fang Foom_!"

"You mentioned that. Mind if I call you Fin?"

The beast swung its neck back and forth like a giraffe, swinging down at lightning speed and lifting Peter into the air in his fist. 

"Mr. Parker?"

Peter paused his struggle to escape the monster's grip as Tony's voice filtered into his suit. 

"Oh, h-hey, Mr. Stark! Are you, uh, coming down here at any point? No pressure, just wondering."

"Nope," Tony popped the "p." "Looks to me like you've got this pretty well taken care of, Spider-Man."

"S-sure. Yeah. This isn't-this is going fine. I've got this completely covered."

"I know you do. Consider this your trial run."

"Right," Peter huffed out nervously, finally tearing himself free from Fin's fist and kicking a foot forward, the claw of Fin's thumb being ripped clean off. The monster roared in agony, the deafening bellow sending the helicopter back a few feet in the air.

"This thing might be the real deal, kid. You wanna throw in the towel and we can handle this together?"

"Everything is fine!" Peter assured. "I've got it handled, Mr. Stark!"

Peter landed on the ground and sent two long strings of webbing to each of Fin's fists, yanking them together and causing the beast to punch himself in the face. Tony remained silent on the other line as Peter fist-pumped the air in success, motioning to send more webbing the monster's way though he froze in place as nothing came out.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

"What's the problem, kid?"

"I'm out of webs," Peter explained, clicking the sides of his web-shooters and allowing the glove of his suit to slide to the ground as he examined the inside of the web cartridge. " _Shit_."

"Alright. Reevaluate. What's your next move, Spider-Man?"

"Right," Peter nodded. "Right. Iron Man's watching. Can't screw this one up."

He took in a deep, shaky breath, looking around desperately for a plan B before his eyes landed upon one of the cars Fin had launched his way previously, though now it appeared to be nothing but a crushed soda can. He shrugged, sprinting toward it.

"That'll do."

He lifted it with ease, holding it over his head and running the best he could toward Fin, who was lying on the street nearly unconscious.

"Hey, Fin, I think you lost this!"

The monster lifted its head weakly with a grunt, immediately thrown aback as Peter launched the crushed vehicle straight into its skull and knocking it out cold.

"Wow. I mean, honestly, nice work, kid," Tony nodded impressively down at Peter from above, leaning out of the helicopter just enough to send Peter a thumbs up. "Impressive display. I'll give it an 8.5 for flair, a 4.5 for time."

Peter nodded up at him, huffing out exhausted breaths as he sent a weak thumbs up Tony's way. 

"Thanks, Mr. Stark."

...

"Wait, did you plan this? I mean, did you set this up? Is this monster even real?"

Before Tony could answer, Fin regained just enough consciousness to wrap a giant, clawed hand around Peter once again, lifting him up into the air.

"Hey, let me go-!"

" _Fin Fang FOOM_!"

Peter cried out in alarm as the beast threw his arm back and sent Peter soaring up into the air, directly into the path of the helicopter hovering overhead. Tony lunged forward instinctively, one hand clenched tightly on the door of the chopper and the other stretching out as far as possible and catching Peter's gloved hand in midair, taking a firm hold of Peter's hand before the kid could fall back to the ground.

"Woah! Oh, my god!"

"I've got you kid."

Peter stared up at Tony with eyes the size of dinner plates beneath his mask. The monster from below bellowed once again, the sound so deafening that the chopper was being blown back a few feet in the air.

"FRI, take us up higher. Looks like Nessie is about to wake up again."

"On it, boss."

Peter looked down at the nearly 100-foot drop below as the distance from the ground increased steadily. Tony lied down with his stomach on the floor of the helicopter, his arm hanging out of the aircraft with Peter's iron grip wrapped around his hand.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Holy shit. I can't breathe."

"Don't look down, kid. I've got you, see?"

Peter nodded, reaching his other hand up and lifting his mask up just enough so that his mouth was exposed.

"I'm out of webs," Peter reminded Tony with a nervous smile amidst his frantic breathing. "So, you know, it-it would be really great if you didn't drop me."

"Sure," Tony grunted with the strain of Peter's weight pulling on his shoulder as he gestured his head toward Peter's other hand. "What happened to your glove?"

"Fell off."

"Wasting my technology already, I see."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Mr. Stark, sir, just please, _please_ do _not_ drop me."

"Alright. Here's what we're going to do, kid. You're gonna give me your other hand, and I'm gonna pull you up. Okay?"

"Okay," Peter nodded timidly, his gaze beneath the mask full of skepticism though he knew he didn't have many other options what with his body being near paralyzed in panic. "Okay, okay, okay."

Peter reached his other gloveless hand up. Tony took it. 

Their hands touched without gloves or gauntlets or technology keeping them apart. Skin-on-skin contact, and Peter's entire life was suddenly flashing before Tony's eyes, and Tony's before Peter's.

He choked on a gasp and squeezed his eyes shut as the memories began flooding all of his senses all at once, overwhelming every atom in his body with a warmth so intense he was melting. Every tear, every hug, every kiss planted to the kid's head, every anxious night spent worrying recklessly about the kid was coursing through his veins.

Tony's eyes snapped open in a heartbeat as he stared down at Peter like he was the most precious miracle to ever walk the Earth, Peter mirroring his intensity.

"P-Peter?"

"Tony," Peter gasped out, his eyes wide as the world around him, or, more appropriately, below him, vanished from his mind.

Tony really drank Peter in this time, the kid's hand slipping out of Tony's, suspended thousands of feet above a large body of water, the incline only rising with each agonizing second that passed. Bile rose up in Tony's throat, the sudden need to beg to any god that would listen to him overwhelming his senses.

"Peter, kid, you listen to me. Don’t you dare let go of my hand, no matter what, okay? I'm gonna get you up here.”

"Okay, okay. I wasn't-I wasn't really planning on letting go or anything, but okay."

Tony shook his head incredulously at the kid, a laugh escaping him despite himself as his eyes glossed over with fresh tears. If Tony weren't holding both of the kid's hands in his with the threat of his life, he would have lunged forward and ripped the mask off of him to convince himself that this was real.

"I found you."

"Found you, first," Tony corrected with a breath of admiration. Peter laughed. Tony took a beat too long to fully drink in his current circumstances after his epiphany had passed, his iron grip on Peter's slipping hand tightening.

After a profound wave of horror was overcoming him when reality really settled in and revealed that Peter, _his_ Peter, was currently suspended nearly 1,000 feet above the East River with nothing to depend on but Tony's sweaty, weak hand, an intense, booming from below swept the chopper back a few feet in the air once more, and Peter’s hand began to slip out of Tony’s even further.

”Peter! Peter, baby, you’ve gotta hold on. You’re gonna have to jump up here.”

”I-I don’t think I-“

”You can. You can, baby. Just look at me. Don’t look down.” 

“Okay,” Peter modded nervously, closing his eyes with a steadying breath. “Okay, okay, okay. Not looking down, not looking down, not-"

And at that moment, Tony remembered a very important detail about touching your soulmate for the first time as if on cue, because before Peter could finish his panicked stupor, a sharp pain was cutting deeply into both Tony and Peter's right wrists. Tony cried out in agony, instinctively flexing the fingers on his hand.

Peter yelled out in alarm as his hand slipped out of Tony's, and he was falling.

"Tony wait-!"

" _Peter_!"

Peter's panicked screaming filled Tony's every sense as his earpiece continued recording their phone call. As Peter pulled his mask back over his entire face amidst his plummet, Tony stared down from the helicopter with a sickening perturbation as he watched Peter's parachute activate in midair, doing the opposite of what a parachute should do and instead wrapping itself around Peter in a cocoon. Peter thrashed about frantically in the air, his hysterical cries and fragmented breaths of pure panic shattering Tony's heart through the comms.

"FRIDAY, activate 16C, now!"

"Already done, boss."

Tony nodded and, with zero hesitation, lunged out of the helicopter, immediately overcome by the terrible feeling of falling.

Peter's staccato, panicked breaths continued filtering through Tony's earpiece as he dove toward the kid, watching with a clenched chest as Peter continued to toss and turn in the hold of the parachute. If anything, the parachute appeared to have accelerated Peter's fall.

"Peter, can you hear me?"

"Help!" the kid was gasping out in a frenzy. "I can't-I can't-!"

Peter plunged into the East River and vanished from Tony's sight. Bubbles surfaced on the water, Peter's muffled groans under the water glitching in and out of Tony's earpiece. The surface of the water completely stilled after that, as if nothing had ever happened.

Tony's heart began to race, barely noticing the way the long-awaited cargo from 16C began materializing itself around Tony's figure until, after what felt like an eternity, he was fully embraced in an Iron Man suit, plummeting into the water and diving straight to the bottom of the river.

A heap of parachute fabric laid completely still on the sandy surface and Tony was lurching toward it feverishly, scooping it up protectively in his arms and shooting out of the river. 

"Vitals, FRI."

"Weak, but there. You need to perform CPR to rid the lungs of fluids."

"Activate his suit heater."

Steam emitted from Peter's suit at the command as Tony landed on a nearby patch of grass. Tony laid Peter down gently on the soft surface, cradling his head and making certain that no one was around before slipping Peter's mask off.

The kid's head lolled to the side at the notion, his eyes shut and his brown curls sagging down with water. Tony had fantasized about this very moment in his dreams, about meeting Peter in person and holding him close for as long as the universe would let him.

He never, ever could have fathomed that instead, he would be performing chest compressions on his child as the sun setting over New York City cast an ironic glimmer across the river and onto Tony and Peter, a couple of soulmates that could never seem to catch a break.

"Peter," Tony choked out, his suit retracting as he reached a hand forward to cup Peter's face.

"Chest compressions. Now, boss."

"Right," Tony stared utterly stupefied as his worst nightmare came to life on the ground before him, his entire world suddenly hanging by a thread. "Right, okay."

Tony placed two shaky, fisted hands down firmly on Peter's chest and began CPR.

"God, I hate this," Tony shook his head, huffing out an exhausted breath with every press of his hands on Peter's chest. "I hate this. I hate this."

Peter's body jerked with each compression. Tony's heart began to race in deep concern, though admittedly the frustration he felt at both the universe and the circumstances that had led to this outcome began to take the driver's seat at the kid's refusal to return to the land of the living.

"He's not waking up. FRIDAY, why isn't he waking up?"

"Keep going, boss."

Tony breathed in and out shakily, his mind racing as he suddenly pictured that first night in the baby-blue nursery, one of the happiest nights of Tony's life.

Peter, an infant, giggling stupidly at everything Tony said and thawing the thick layer of ice around Tony's heart.

_Thud, thud, thud._

Peter, nine years old, young and lively and making his comeback after Tony found Pepper as he waved an action figure of Iron Man proudly in Tony's face.

_Thud, thud, thud._

Peter, ten years old, asking for nothing more than to be held in Tony's arms after a kid at school had tripped him that day, breaking his glasses and making his nose bleed.

_Thud, thud, thud._

Peter, twelve years old, listing off the exact lego sets he wanted for Christmas that year.

_Thud, thud, thud._

Peter, fourteen years old, shivering in Tony's arms and cradling his spider-bitten hand as Tony rubbed his back soothingly.

_Thud, thud, thud._

Peter, fourteen years old, a gut-wrenching sob echoing throughout the walls of his new bedroom as he hugged one of Ben's jacket's to his chest and soaked tears into Tony's MIT sweatshirt.

_Thud, thud, thud._

Peter, fifteen years old, wearing his yellow Aca-Dec blazer and hanging down from the ceiling, spinning like a disco ball from his webs as Tony chewed on the end of a pencil in thought, avoiding making eye contact with the kid because every time he did he was barking out a laugh. 

_Thud, thud, thud._

Peter, fifteen years old, right under Tony's nose, covered head to toe in Stark technology and still _dying_.

Tony ceased his persistent compressions and slammed a fist down a little harder than he intended on his kid's chest with a cry of devastation, watching with wide eyes as the kid woke with a gasp and instantly lurched over, gagging up water onto the ground beside him.

"Oh, Tony breathed out in relief, briefly bringing one hand up to cover his mouth and the other his chest as he sat up on his knees and threw his head back in nauseating happiness. "Oh, thank god. Thank god."

Peter continued to hack up a lung as Tony leaned forward and held Peter's shoulders firmly, rubbing soothing circles on his back and assuring him that he would be okay. Peter gasped, rolling flat on his back and gulping in fresh breaths of air as the cold water left his lungs and blood pounded behind his eyes. Tony took this as a perfect opportunity to cup Peter's face gently in his hands despite the tremors that coursed through them, tethering Peter to reality, to life.

"Petey? Can you hear me?"

Peter blinked himself into reality, squinting under the warm glow of the setting golden sun in the West. His eyes met Tony's, finally, and he was beaming up at him, swallowing thickly as he recalibrated himself. Tony brushed the pads of his thumbs fondly across Peter's cheeks, drinking him in for as long as the universe would let him.

"You dropped me."

Tony chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief and, for the first time in his entire life, unable to think of a witty comeback, instead lurching forward and wrapping Peter up in a bone-crushing hug, cradling his kid's head protectively as his back bounced slightly with sobs. Peter found himself returning Tony's energy, his body still in shock and his heart still racing from the adrenaline but still holding Tony as tightly as he could, his adoration for him never-ending.

"I'm sorry," Tony sniffed, choking back a few more sobs as he continued to pet the damp curls on Peter's head. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm sorry."

"Hey," Peter shook his head, pulling out of the hug and emitting a few more coughs as he collapsed back onto his elbows, lifting up his right wrist and rolling down the red sleeve of his suit. "Look at that. See?"

Tony stared at Peter's wrist carefully, the name " _Anthony_ ," still raw and pink across Peter's skin.

Honestly, it was the worst thing Tony had ever seen in his entire fucking life, but he was forgetting about it almost instantly as he lifted his own wrist, studying the new name printed across his skin and finding that he was absolutely floored by the sight of it.

 _Peter_.

Tony stared at it like it was a miracle, bringing his other wrist up so that both names were displayed together, side by side.

_Virginia and Peter. Virginia and Peter._

Tony leaned forward and planted another long, endearing kiss on Peter's forehead to make up for a lifetime of dreamt ones.

"Oh, god," Peter bolted upright, nearly bonking heads with Tony as his gaze was shooting toward the city, searching dreadfully for Fin. "The monster. Where is it?"

"Uh, I-"

Before Tony could finish his thought, he caught a glimpse of a particular winged hero soaring above the beast wreaking havoc on the city, followed by a familiar shield being thrown into the creature's eye. Tony huffed out a laugh, ruffling Peter's wet curls.

"Looks like Cap's circus troupe has got this one covered. I gotta hand it to you, kid. Looks like that really was an Avengers level threat."

Peter melted in relief, right down on his back as he closed his eyes and took in a composing breath. Tony simply watched him, reaching forward and selfishly taking Peter's hand in his own, craving to have the kid in his hold in any way he could manage.

"Hey," Peter started, sitting up with a grunt and waving off Tony's deep concern as he fumbled to help him. "You wanna go eat some greasy food? I know a pizza place around here."

Tony blinked in thought, a knowing smile spreading across his face.

"Oh, yeah," Tony snorted, clapping a hand on Peter's shoulder and pulling him into his side as they walked.

"This is why we're soulmates, kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dunno.


End file.
